


She Wants Him

by fanfictionandcats



Series: Want [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, at least i think it's fluff? idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:47:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictionandcats/pseuds/fanfictionandcats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As much as she hates it, Cora wants him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Wants Him

**Author's Note:**

> so hey. i wrote another thing. 
> 
> really starting to dig these two together ƪ(♥ε♥)ʃ

She’s surprised when she realizes she wants him.

It’s over breakfast, one of their half-awkward half-indifferent silent breakfasts that happen when Derek’s out and Erica and Boyd have gone home. She’s standing at the counter, wolfing (no pun intended) down her bowl of cereal before she goes for a run, and he’s languidly gripping the handle of a frying pan sizzling over the stove.

He actually cooks. It’s the weirdest thing, but every morning he makes a full, _Continental_ breakfast, complete with eggs and bacon and toast and one time she even saw him slice a grapefruit. And sometimes he makes dinner.

She doesn’t know shit about cooking. Her mother always did the cooking. Laura helped. She never learned because that was mom and Laura’s thing. She knows, vaguely, that he’s living here because his dad died last year and she wonders that’s why he knows how to cook.

Not that she cares.

He stared at her for a minute, as if silently asking her if she wanted any, and she responded callously by picking up her bowl of cereal and walking away. She saw him shrug out of the corner of her eye, and turn back to the stove.

She finished her breakfast quickly, and regrettably moved towards the sink to put her empty bowl down. Before she could, though, Isaac’s left hand caught her wrist, taking it from her with the other.

“I’m about to do the dishes.” He mumbles, because she probably scowled.

Before she can stop herself, she blurts out, “You don’t have to, you know.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to do the dishes.” She huffed. “Or cook dinner for us. Or clean or dust or any of that.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it.” He says, his voice edging on hurt. It startles her how much she immediately regrets causing it. “I... I’m living here, rent free, so I thought the least I could do was help out a little. Sorry.”

He looks so earnest, and she notices that she’d been so busy acting detached that she’s never actually gotten a look at his face from this close up. His jawline is sharp and angular, and it was clenched now. His eyes were deep-set, almost hooded, but they were a gorgeous sort of deep, dark blue. His lips - his bottom is bigger than his top, but they look thin and firm, in a boyish way. Nice, boy lips. His gaze searches her face with uncertainty, like he is expecting her to yell or lash out at him.

She turns away from him, pulling her wrist out of his grasp, stalking away, but offering over her shoulder, “It’s fine.”

 

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She doesn’t want to want him.

He’s _weak_. He’s the puppy of the pack, and even though he trains often (she knows, she’s usually training too), he still doesn’t feel like much of a threat to anyone. He’s impulsive (but she’s not really one to talk, she thinks ruefully). He’s just a scrappy inexperienced kid.

She also senses that he’s got some serious issues. She asks Derek about him once, and he tells her that it’s none of her business and if she wants to run around dredging up the past she should be prepared to share. That was enough to shut her right up. But she can see it in the way that loud noises still make him noticeably flinch and he won’t go anywhere near graveyards.

He’s going to make _her_ weak, if she lets him. She doesn’t understand the things she feels for him - sure, he’s muscled and broad-shouldered and looks good shirtless, but all werewolves look like that. It’s like she wants to know him. Like... with conversation and... other stuff...

So she deals with it in normal Hale fashion, which includes lots of glaring and feigned disinterest.

Though, unfortunately, there is _also_ the whole muscled/broad-shouldered/looks-good-shirtless thing to worry about too. He runs every night - always after dark - and is always devoid of very much clothing. She understands, she hates clothes flapping and getting in the way when she runs, but right now she’s very angry at the lack of fabric and how affected she is by it.

He stands on the porch for a moment, stretching, and she watches his shoulder blades move and her gaze skirts down to the just-barely-there back dimples he has, and all of a sudden she wants to touch him.

And he runs off and she’s left standing in the doorway, unnerved, annoyed, and just a little turned on.

Days go by and she stays in this torturous state of uncomfortability, and she has to work hard on keeping her feelings hidden among the pack. She’s been learning how to do it since birth, and is pretty good at it, so it’s extremely irritating that he’s getting to her this much.

She becomes distracted for a while, with the fighting and the Alpha Pack and helping Derek. But the tension dies down for a beat and Derek’s too busy with boring books and research, and there’s nothing for her to do except be left in the empty house with Isaac.

They’re in the woods, both too tired to run anymore, walking back to the apartment from a day spent conditioning.

And then - she will never forgive herself for this - she actually _tripped_ on a tree root. Before she has a chance to catch herself, Isaac does. His big hands steady her, even though she really doesn’t need it, you know, with the werewolf quick reflexes.

For a second, she’s poised to snap something at him and shove him away for even daring to touch her, but then she looks at him. He’s smiling cautiously, his grip is so gentle, and for a second she forgets that she’s the steel-hearted cool-shoulder bitch that she is. She even thinks about what it would be like to lay next to him and watch the way sunlight clings to his curly hair.

He’s sweet. Kind. She wishes she knew what happened with his father, why he took the bite in the first place. She wonders if she could ask -

_No. Detach._

She neutrally takes her arms back, trying to smile a thanks. It comes out as more of a grimace, and he stuffs his hands dejectedly in his pants pockets.

 

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She gives in to wanting him.

For almost a week after she’s had the revelation, she’s confused as to whether anything with him would even be a possibility. She knows she’s attractive, and that he’s pleasant to her, if not a bit awkward. But she isn’t sure if that’s just him being nice or it’s him being nice to _her_.

She refuses to be _that girl_ , who sits around fretting over whether or not a boy likes her, and figures that she might as well make the first move. But what is the first move? The only contact she’s ever had with a member of the opposite sex was one horribly “pre-teen” cliché closet experience that ended with the boy getting a little too grabby and receiving a black eye in return.

So she tries to grit her teeth and “let the chips fall where they may”, even though she’s always been horrible at that.

But then comes one rainy afternoon with the two of them coincidentally winding up alone in the front room, and she startles Isaac by asking him if he wants to watch a movie with her, and stifles a laugh when she sees how surprised he is with the offer. And they sit together on the couch, and she can feel her shoulder inches away from his and the rain pattering outside on the window is soft, melting together with the dialogue on the screen, and all of a sudden she can feel herself falling asleep.

She wakes up, mortified, and the movie’s ended. She lifts her head from Isaac’s shoulder (which is, unfortunately, buff and smells great), and scurries away before he can catch on how much she actually feels for him.

And then he surprises her, having the balls to actually ask her on a date even though she’s sure he’s secretly really scared of Derek. She spends more than twenty minutes trying to decide on what to wear. They go out and eat, and end up laughing about the last lacrosse game and how Greenberg almost face-planted and why Beacon Hills doesn’t have seem to have a basketball team.

They both walk upstairs and her entire body is buzzing because Isaac’s close to her, and when they get inside she can tell that he’s going to try to be a “gentleman”, or something stupid like that, so she takes matters into her own hands and kisses him.

It’s a little clumsy, but the way his hands land on her hips and squeeze when she presses a little closer to him is _amazing_.

And that’s when she realizes giving into her feelings for him was the worst idea in the world, because now she’s hooked and she doesn’t think she’ll ever leave.


End file.
